


On the Run

by RoninReverie



Series: Old Kanera Fanfiction [10]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: A New Dawn references, Corphellion, F/M, Garos IV, Phindar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoninReverie/pseuds/RoninReverie
Summary: The Chase Arc: 2/4The Ghost crew continues to pursue Sabine Wren, but she manages to stay one step ahead of them.





	On the Run

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: [Link!](http://roninreverie.tumblr.com/post/143702171679/on-the-run)
> 
> **IMPORTANT!** This series was written before the second half of season 2 aired on television, so all content is based on my headcanons after season 1 and the "A New Dawn" novel.

Hera yawned, stretching into her pilot’s seat as an early morning dawn came rising into her viewport over Garos IV. 

She enjoyed this part of her morning, the calm before anyone else on the crew was awake. Of course, Kanan was right behind her. She probably had about five or ten minutes before he strolled into the cockpit to hand her their morning caf. 

Then there was Zeb. In his time on the Ghost, the Lasat seemed to rise pretty early, but he and Chopper could fake sleeping in for another half hour in order to get out of work, something Hera generously turned a blind eye to.

She let her voice adjust to consciousness as she flipped a few switched on her viewport. “Let’s check on our artist…” She pushed a button and a small red dot appeared on the screen before her.

Hera frowned.

“Odd?” 

She tampered with a few different controls until focusing on the scanners with a new intensity.

_*WHOOSH*_

The doors to the control room slid open as Kanan stumbled into the cockpit. Like clockwork, he had both of their drinks in each hand, still piping hot while his eyes were only partially awake.

“Morning,” he said, setting her cup beside her. Hera’s attention was so entranced to the computer screen that he knew he might be standing there awhile otherwise.

“We have a problem,” she blurted.

“Can’t I  _at least_  have my caf first?” He groaned and rubbed his face, his voice reluctant… “What is it?”

She pointed at the screen.

“It’s our tracker…” He yawned.

Hera grumbled and grabbed him by the chin, yanking his face closer to the monitor.

“Where  _is_  it, Kanan?” She asked irritably.

“It says the Locura Ocean…” He blinked a few times and took a sip of his drink.

Hera waited for the words to sink in.

It took a few seconds, but Kanan’s eyes shot open and he spat some his caf onto the computer screen.

“There it is…” she said, groaning slightly as she wiped the display off with her sleeve.

“How long did she know?” he pondered.

“Hopefully not long. If we’re lucky she’s still hiding somewhere in Zila…” Hera turned to look him in the eye. “You said she only stole a few grenades and ammunition, right?”

“Yeah,” he groaned all the way into his seat. “She dropped a lot of it too. If I were her, I’d circle back and take one more job to make up the loss.”

Hera shot him a look.

He nodded knowingly and stood back up.

“Yeah, yeah…I’ll go wake Zeb and have Chop prep the  _Phantom_ …”

“Thank you, luv.”

He merely shrugged out the door and took another drink. Something was telling him that he would need all the caffeine that he could get in order to make it through today.

* * *

 

“Kid sure is turning into a pain in my—”

“Come on, Zeb, she’s got potential,” Kanan interrupted.

“ _Potentially aggravating,_ ” he snorted. “Why are we going so far out of our way for this kid? And don’t say ‘because Zaluna Myder told us to’ because there has to be more to it than that.”

Chopper grumbled a reason to them from above as Kanan steered the  _Phantom_ closer to a landing spot in the city.

“Hey, I can hear you up there!” Kanan retorted.

Zeb persisted onward for an actual reply…“Well?”

Kanan sighed and rubbed his face for a long while before deciding what to say. They weren’t to a point that he needed to know Kanan’s life story—heck, he and Hera knew next to nothing about this Lasat other than the fact that he was ex-honor guard and Kanan felt that he could be trusted with their very lives if it came down to it.

“Zeb, do you remember the name I told you back at the cantina on Tatooine?”

His ears flattened slightly as he traced his brain trying to remember such a small detail.

“It’s been a while—and I wasn’t in my best of thoughts…” He fumbled.

“It’s alright,” Kanan smiled and swiveled around in his chair. “His name was Okadiah Garson, and without him, well I guess I wouldn’t be here right now…” He frowned, his voice full of thought as he added, “You see, Okadiah took me in when I was at my low point. He gave me a place to stay, a job, and he helped me get through my time on Gorse.”

Zeb listened as Kanan told him about meeting Hera, some man named Skelly, Imperials, and even Zaluna. It was a far different tale than the one Zaluna had mentioned in her home on Kinyen a few weeks ago.

“Okadiah and Skelly didn’t make it,” Kanan frowned. “But, I still owed a lot to them.” He sighed and parked the ship, looking directly back at Zeb as he said, “I have known many Okadiah’s in my time, some aren’t worth mentioning, but others are people who picked me up when I was at my worst, Hera, Okadiah, Janus—-” His eyes got wider, but he shook the slip away and cleared his throat. “Without them, I would be an entirely different person… So… If I can return the favor to this Mandalorian girl, then I will do everything I can to give her that chance.  _Everyone_  deserves a chance.”

Zeb rubbed at his beard and nodded.

“So kind of like you did with  _me,_  eh?”

Kanan stood and patted his shoulder.

“It’s a little different than that,” he said with a smirk. “Chop, keep the Phantom running. Let’s get going Zeb, we have a kid to find.”

“And how do you think you’re going to find her?”

##  **KA-BOOM!**

“Trust me, I have my ways!” he yelled, rushing out of the ship.

Zeb pulled the rifle over his shoulder and followed close behind with a long growl… “She’s going to start shooting at us…”

“She’s not going to shoot at us!” 

“You  _sure_  about that?”

Kanan laughed once and shook his head… “No.”

* * *

 

Sabine saw the small ship parking on the small lot nearby.

“Not those two again…” She huffed. “How do they keep finding me!?”

Like it wasn’t bad enough she threw a perfectly good blaster into the ocean in order to ditch that tracker, but now they still show right when she’s about to make a score. What was with the ponytail man and his pet?  _Why were they so intent on chasing after her?_

She ran to the other side of the roof and readied her explosives. There was a moment where she thought she could just run, but she needed those credits in order to catch her next ride. Plus, the richest Imperials on this planet lived around here and there were bounties to collect all over. It was just one simple milk-run.

Sabine snuck down the building and saw her pursuers closing in.

“Come and get me, boys,” she muttered.

“Do you see her?” the purple one said.

It was only now, during the daylight, that Sabine could make out that he was a Lasat. She didn’t think there were any Lasat left in the galaxy after what the Empire did to their planet a few years back.

“No…” The man with the ponytail said. “It was a small strike, she must be trying to get our attention. She’s probably readying another charge.”

She’d recognize that voice anywhere. He was about what she imagined…same eyes, tan skin, and his face,  _while slightly handsome_ , was enough to make her knuckles itch. He was a little smarter than she gave him credit for, deducing her plan so effortlessly.

“And where would that be again?” The Lasat searched.

She watched the ponytail man turn his eyes directly towards her work… _effortless deduction yet again_.

“There!” He pointed. “The mural!”

He was too late.

Sabine didn’t really care who they were or what they were, she was making this run and those two weren’t about to get in her way again. Luckily, Sabine had a back-up plan. Not her most subtle idea, but it would get the sufficient amount of credits she needed, and get these two nerfherders off her back. Step one was already in play. Now was time for the real explosion.

##  **KA-BOOM!**

She pushed the button and her grand mural of Garos IV—the one she had spent half the morning making—exploded into a burst of colorful fire and debris. It was no Tie Fighter, but if anything, the color from the blast was worth the effort.

* * *

 

“She’s close!” Kanan sensed her, but Zeb didn’t need to know that. He assumed the same because of the nearby explosion.

“Oh you think?” Zeb huffed and pointed. “Here come the Imps…”

“Now  _those guys_   _might_  shoot at us!” Kanan chuckled and they took cover around the corner.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Kanan shrugged.

“Well, this is just a great start to the morning…” Zeb complained. “What now?”

“It doesn’t make much sense?” Kanan wondered, peeking back around the corner as more Storm Troopers entered the crater in the wall. He shook his head, saying, “Why go to all the trouble to blow the wall, if she wasn’t going—to—go—in…” 

His voice slowed when he saw the building she had made a hole in was completely and utterly abandoned.

Zeb was searching the perimeter as the two hid. He huffed but remained optimistic for Kanan’s sake as he said, “She has to be within sight.”

Kanan felt a familiar sense of worry spread across him, a warning. It was a bad feeling that he hadn’t gotten in quite a while.

“Zeb…”

“Of course, I’d run off too, if I saw us coming,” he continued. “No surprise she wants nothing to do with us—no matter how much you’re trying to help.”

“Zeb!” Kanan said again. “I think this is a trap?”

_Then the felling hit him like a brick to the back of the head…_

Kanan turned back towards the  _Phantom_  just in time to see the Mandalorian girl jump down from the wing and run off down the alley. Chopper was going frantic, but Kanan didn’t have time to make out what he said until it was too late.

Zeb turned when he heard Chopper’s shouting and his face fell in aggravation.

“Oh Karabasts…”

##  **KA-BOOM!**

* * *

 

Sabine didn’t stick around to see how much damage she made.

First those two made her drop half her bounty during the weapons heist, then they think she’s stupid enough not to search a blaster for a tracker, and now they were basically chasing her down— _who knows how or for how long?_  She was tired of them messing with her ops. With any luck, the repairs they’d have to make on their ship would buy her enough time to trade her latest bounty for a ticket off of this rock.

She opened the hatch door to a small storage compartment a few blocks down the road and stepped inside, letting the light shine into the dark hole where a lone figure sat tied to a chair.

“Wanise Anchal,” she said with a smile masked beneath her helmet. “I don’t know what you did to get a bounty on your head with both the Empire and the people of Garos, but  _hey_ , your loss  _is my gain_.”

He spoke Aqualish at her as best he could beneath the tape she used to block his tusks and jaw.

In the Academy, her instructors taught her many languages, and some she even collected on her own. She understood what he said as though it were her primary language, and was able to reply to him with little effort.

“<I know you,>” he said. “<You’re the Artist of Mandalore! You’re a bounty hunter! You fight against Imperials, why turn me over to them?>”

“I don’t really care who set the bounty so long as I get paid,” she said, lifting him to his feet as she tightened the restraints on his arms.

He grunted and snarled, “<They’ll recognize you the minute you leave this warehouse!>”

“Uh  _duh?_  That’s why I arranged a distraction and I’m handing you over to a middleman. He takes the final bounty for half the work and I get compensated a portion for delivering you to him. It’s a scam, but hey— _desperate times_ and I can’t afford to be picky.”

She shoved him out the door and into the sunlight as his eyes squinted to adjust to the sudden brightness. While not one but three explosions distracted everyone, Sabine could easily drag her perp to the middleman and collect her credits. She’d be off this planet before high noon.

“<You know what they’ll do to me, if they catch me?!>”

Sabine scoffed and jabbed her blaster into his back to make him walk faster. It was almost pitiable, but the young Mandalorian had more important things to worry about. Wanise was no saint… Whatever he did to get the bounty on his head, he deserved whatever punishment was coming to him.

“That’s not my problem,” She said. “Now move it…” Sabine sighed heavily and took a look around. “I don’t want to be out here any longer than I need to.”

Sabine tightened his mouth to the point he could no longer form words and then pointed him further down the back alleys of Zila. She couldn’t allow him to talk  _or else she might get soft and turn him loose._ She didn’t want to think about his fate, or her part in it. She couldn’t let him go if she wanted to. That was just not in the cards for her right now. She needed off of this planet before somebody found her—somebody much more troublesome than the ponytail man and the Lasat.

Ketsu would have already done away with him if she’d been the one leading this bounty. The Aqualish man  _should_  count his blessings.

Sabine’s face hardened and she shoved her blaster at him again in order to clear her wandering thoughts.

“Get moving! I won’t ask nicely again!”

* * *

_BEEP! BEEP! BOOP! BEEP! PBBT! WRT! ZZT BOOP!_

“Calm down already will you? It’s not that bad!” Kanan said as he coaxed the flailing droid away from the  _Phantom_.

Chopper cursed and swung his metal arms into any and everything he could hit, his binary blaring words that even Kanan didn’t really know the meaning to, but he did know they were vulgar enough to scare a Gundark away.

“Uh,  _Spectre Four_  to  _Ghost_ , Come in  _Spectre Two_ …” Zeb spoke nervously into his communications device as he watched Kanan beat the flames off of their small escape ship with his cloak.

Hera’s voice replied almost instantly… “Spectre Two here, go ahead.”

Something about her unsuspecting voice made Zeb feel uneasy. It was almost like that one time as a child when he had to tell his gran that he broke the imprint of his father’s hand that she kept on their firepot. A slab of pottery that held his large handprint within it—it was Lasat tradition when you left home so your family would always have a memory of you. Zeb would try to measure his own hand to see if he was growing up to be like his father, but he accidentally broke it and had to tell his gran when she got home. He thought about running away or hiding the evidence, but in the end he told her the truth about what happened. They were able to fix it and all, but he had never been so afraid to tell someone something in his life.

“Well you see…” Zeb muttered. “There’s been a— well, a situation…”

Her voice became hard as stone with worried undertones,  _a similar tone to his gran’s._

“What  _kind_  of situation?”

Chopper zipped over and delivered a sharp slap to Zeb’s leg, making him drop the comm piece right into the droids grabby pinchers. He then proceeded to blab everything that had just happened to Hera, including the fact that the Mandalorian had just blown up the  _Phantom._

“WHAT!?” She shouted, her voice like the calming terror of thunder.

_Also like Gran,_ Zeb thought.

Kanan felt that bad feeling crawling up his spine again, especially after he heard what she had to say next.

“WHERE IS KANAN!?” Hera yelled.

He walked up and rubbed his neck, snatching the communication device from the droid with a glare of contempt. Still, Kanan let his voice ring as though he were answering a pleasant phone call…

“ _Spectre One here!_ ” He sang.

“YOU  _BLEW UP_  THE PHANTOM!?”

He cringed.

“Well I didn’t—-I mean—Hera, come on! Look, can we talk about this later—there’s a lot of troops around, and everything’s on fire—”

“MY SHIP IS ON FIRE?!”

_“Well—”_  Zeb stretched.

“Okay!” Kanan stammered. “So, poor choice of words—” He patted down another flare-up and added… “ _A little_ —J-Just—” he sighed and hung his head in defeat. “Can you just come pick us up so we can make repairs?

The radio was silent.

“Hera?”

After another long pause, she finally replied, “I’m on my way. Chopper, make sure that Zeb and Kanan don’t do any further damage to  _my ship please_.”

He chirped a reply and saluted as he stole back the comm piece and the line went dead.

“I haven’t seen her this mad since we lost all those credits on Kinyen,” Zeb laughed.

“ _We?_ ” He half-chuckled. “If I recall, it was  _you_ who lost our credits on Kinyen.”

“Hey, that street performer was really convincing!”

_BEE-BOOP-BEEP!_

“Scam artist!” Kanan corrected in a much kinder way that Chopper had just done. “And it was literally last week that it happened, pal. You’re lucky Hera isn’t having you doing maintenance on the Ghost for the rest of your life…”

“I didn’t think she’d let me back on the ship—just imagine what she’s going to do to you?”

“I’m sure I’ve done worse?” He almost smirked at the thought until the wind brushing from beneath the Ghost started to hover above them. It did well to quell the remainder of the fire, and after she landed, they even managed to drag the Phantom back onto the ship with a little help from the locals.

_“She gets everyone around this system…”_ they would say.

_“Better scram before the troopers start blaming you for the other bomb…”_ others would warn.

They took the advice and got out of the area just before Storm Troopers started asking citizens questions about the three small bombings.

Hera took off back to their hiding spot just on the outskirts of Zila and she barely looked at the two of them for more than enough time to shoot a quick glare of blame to each face, before beginning her repairs on the Phantom.

It was nearly a full hour later until she returned and by then she had worked out most of her frustration on the ship. The evidence was clear as the black coating of grease all over her overalls and face. Her expression, once emotionless with anger was now smiling at the ridiculousness of having her ship be broken in first place.

“Looks like the Phantom’s grounded for a little while.”

“How long is  _‘a little while’_?” Kanan asked.

“Long enough for the girl to get off world and run  _who-knows-where_?” She huffed and rubbed her brow. “We can assume she’s heading off world due to her reports marking only brief sightings of her on each planet. So, we had better trace all the security cameras for the ports leaving Garos if we ever hope to find her again.”

“I’m on it!” Kanan shot off quickly, half due to Zaluna teaching him how to reprogram security cameras, but also because he didn’t want to feel the lingering aggravation in the air around Hera. She could smile all she wanted, but Kanan knew that she was still mad at him for allowing the Zila incident to happen.

“Wait, wait,  _wait, wait, wait, wait…_ ” Zeb held up a hand and paused, letting his thoughts settle before finally rubbing his face and saying, “You’re telling me that you still want to go after her?”

_“Uh huh…”_ She hummed. Hera was tired of answering that question. She half-ignored the rant to follow coming from Zeb as she sat back at the controls on the Ghost and tried to key in to this destructive young girl’s location.

“Look…” he groaned. “I understand Kanan’s reasons for finding the kid, but I’m at a loss for you. This kid blew up your ship, how is that okay with you? Why are you threatening your stuff just for this one girl?”

“It’s just stuff, Zeb,” Hera half-grinned. “And don’t get me wrong…this is infuriating. I’m going to hold her responsible for the damages just as soon as we catch her.  _Better be grateful that she’s going to have to fix the Phantom and not you._ ”

“But why?” He shot his hands out into the air in an attempt to catch his answer.

She sat back in silence and motioned for Zeb to take a seat, to which he complied.

“How much do you know about this girl, Zeb?” She asked.

He snorted and leaned back in the chair.

“I know she’s trigger happy, bold, and annoying—she doesn’t care about how her actions affect others. Doesn’t care about anybody other than herself, I’d say.”

Hera smiled softly and stared at him with a gleam in her green eyes. “And what do you think makes a girl that way? What’s beneath all those things?”

He stopped and pondered, remembering his own situation just a few weeks before he had met Kanan and Hera. He spent years in that similar state of mind. After Lasan fell, after the bomb took out the remainder of the people in the palace—the ones that he had sworn to the princess that he would protect— So many dead, the Wookie reinforcements failing, and all help that was once a sliver of hope now pointless.  _He had never felt his faiths so abandoned._ They had to retreat off world, his home gone, his family dead, and the love of his life—well… He didn’t accept much help after those things happened. He kept to himself, spending the left over credits in his pocket on gambles and drinks until he either had to fight a mob or take an odd job to get by. It was his darkest time. Then he met Kanan…

After a moment, he finally replied, “Well, I guess one with no family… No friends, probably been through something awful… One who’s been betrayed, abandoned, alone, lost—”

She placed her hand on his shoulder, a comfort that he had not felt in a long time. It snapped him out of his own memories and into the present where he felt her warming touch and soothing stare on him. She really did remind him of his gran at times…the same snarky attitude, but the same loving tenderness.

“That’s why…” Hera said softly. “There’s always hope out there, Zeb. Sometimes people just need a little help to find it.”

“You’re good people.” He rubbed his neck and shook away the thoughts running through his head. “Not many go out of their way to save creatures like us who’ve turned their backs on the universe.”

“You have to help others if you ever hope to help yourself. That’s the only way we’ll survive in the times we live in, Zeb.”

“Well I guess I always thought a bit differently…”

“I found her!” Kanan burst in a moment later and immediately started punching in coordinates into the ship. “I got her!” he repeated eagerly. “She hoped on a freighter heading for a port near Corpelion before stopping on Phindar.”

“Freighter that size, that many people, one stop…” Hera gathered. “She’ll get there by morning.”

“Then we’ll beat her to it,” Zeb said with a grin and a proud nod.

Kanan shot Hera a look of confusion at the willingness and certainty heard in Zeb’s statement. 

She simply smiled at him as if to say  _‘don’t worry, I had a talk with him’_ and Kanan shrugged and just left it at that as the  _Ghost_  took off into space.

* * *

 

Sabine hugged her helmet close as she stared out the transport window at the stars stretching to even the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Her parents had seen a lot of those stars in their time as Death Watch. She found it hard to believe that they were ever a part of that organization,  _knowing now_ what Death Watch stood for—and what unspeakable things they had done during the Clone Wars.

People described the splinter group as murderous monsters and traitors—but Sabine couldn’t remember seeing her parents like that, not ever, not in her eyes. Not even now as she thought of their memory, she couldn’t see them as bad people if she tried.

What was she to others _? A traitor…a warrior…a murderer…_  She couldn’t get the Aqualish bounty out of her head. She knew that turning him over to the Empire would be anything but good, but she still traded him for the credits she needed.  _Was he dead or alive,_  she couldn’t know… But what kind of a person did that make her for trading a life for a measly transport ticket?

“Would you care for some refreshments, miss?” The female droid attendant asked.

Sabine blinked and stammered slightly as she replied, “N-no thank you… I’m fine.”

The droid bowed and rolled off to the next bench to ask another passenger for their order.

“That’s a fancy looking helmet?” The voice next to her said.

She scoffed and hid it against the wall, applying a glare to the speaker in the process.

“What’s it to you?” She spat.

The man laughed softly and held up his hands submissively.

“Just making conversation,” he said. “Been a while since I’ve seen one of those. It wasn’t really what I’d call a good experience,  _but_  I suppose it did have its perks.”

Brown hair that was graying on the sides, blue eyes, slight age marks across the face…he was nothing special. However, his uniform was pristine, revealing stitching that was a unique design from uniforms made near the Inner Rim—more specifically, the Inner Rim members of the Imperial Senate.

“Oh yeah?” Sabine sneered. “What’s a senator like you doing on a bus to Phindar anyway?”

“Found me out so soon?” He grinned and sighed. “Truth be told, I’m on small relief missions for neighboring star systems. Unfortunately, my transport was caught on the way out of port by rebels. Seems public transport was all the planet could offer me as I make my way back to Coruscant.”

She turned to lean on her knee, watching the senator with a pique of interest in an otherwise dull and boring transport.

“Who do you represent?” She asked bluntly.

“I represent the people of Onderon,” he claimed. “Well… most of them anyway.”

“Onderon, huh?” She said. “There’s a lot of rebellion activity there. A lot of war.”

“I could say the same for Mandalore,” he grinned.

She leaned back against the window and shrugged… “Fair enough?”

“What about you? What is a young lady such as yourself doing so far from home?” He looked back at her helmet and snickered. “You’re obviously not one for regulation, so I take it you’re a rebel too?”

She blew the stray hairs from her face and rolled her eyes.

“As if! The only side I’m on is my own. You can’t trust anyone. All I need is my own plans and one day, I’ll get my revenge on those who did me wrong and be free from this stupid system.”

“Oh, so it’s a vengeance mission?” He chuckled before his face grew serious and he rubbed his thumbs together as his eyes stared off into the distance. “Well, take a word of advice from an old stranger,” he said. “Revenge isn’t something that goes like you plan. In the end, you wind up hurting a lot more than you helped.”

She turned back towards the window and glared.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” she lied.

_“Transport 5636 from Corphellion to Phindar will now be docking on the 5289-B Port. Please prepare for the appropriate layovers charted on your travel tickets and transports will land momentarily.”_

The droid pilot continued to chatter about where to find help regarding location and scheduling, but Sabine tuned it out.

“I hope one day that you will be able to stop running,” he said as he stood to collect his luggage.

“I am  _not_  running!” She scoffed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

_“Maybe?”_ The senator chuckled. “But, you remind me a lot of someone that I used to know…” He gave the young Mandalorian a slight bow and a smile. “Thank you for the talk. Now, do yourself a favor, and watch yourself out there, okay kid?”

“Same,” she didn’t look at him, but gave him a half-hearted wave and stared intently out her window.

He chuckled and turned to exit the transport.

As he was leaving, Sabine stood suddenly and called out to him. “Hey! Which section of the spaceport are you going to be in?”

He looked taken back with the question, but studied his passport and replied, “Four…why do you ask?”

“No reason,” she lied, tapping her satchel which still had a few explosives left inside. No doubt the ponytail man and Lasat were going to be tracking her. She might as well give them something to trace. 

“Well, safe travels,” he said.

“Same to you,” she nodded and returned to her seat.

Sabine decided it would probably be best if she avoided Sector IV of the spaceport until after the senator’s layover had passed.

_No sense in delaying this guy any more than he was already, right?_

* * *

 

As soon as they made it to Corphelion, Hera went back and started working on the internal wiring for the  _Phantom’s_ computers. Chopper was helping what best he could, but he didn’t see where she placed bombs and disruptors before he jettisoned himself from the ship. It required a few new parts and a lot of maintenance if it ever hoped to fly again, but it was nothing Hera couldn’t fix.

The girl had done a decent number on the  _Phantom_. The types of bombs she used were not very threatening, but did enough damage to slow them down at least. She knew where she was aiming for in order to buy enough time to get them off her trail, and her aim was just as flawless as her file had said.

Hera wished that she would stop running from them—then again, she wasn’t sure if it was the Ghost that she was really running away from.

According to Fulcrum, the Artist was an escapee from an Imperial Academy on Mandalore, and a big one at that. She had been on the run for a little over a year, and presumably alone for the rest of the time after they lost track of her partner.

Fulcrum had expressed wanting to earn the Mandalorian child’s trust, but never found an opportunity to do so. Then after hearing Zal’s story on Imperials tracking her down, not only for the reasons involving her crimes and vandalism across the Mandalore Sector, but also to punish her for escaping the Academy and defying the Empire… Hera couldn’t let that stand, especially now that the kid has shown an interest in disobeying them. She wondered what awful thing could have made her see the Empire for what it was.  

Knowing all the horrible things that she had seen herself, Hera wanted to help this young girl to realize that the whole galaxy wasn’t as bloody and malicious as the places touched by the Empire made it out to be.

“Chopper, hand me that wrench, will you?” She ordered, her thoughts evident behind her tone.

Chopper knew this tone of hers well. It was best not to argue when she was thinking like that.

He handed off the wrench and Hera thought to herself further…

Kanan was predictably absent and locked away in his room. He was taking her escape from Garos IV pretty hard. She felt a little bad for giving him such a hard time, but he almost let the Phantom and Chopper get blown to Dathomir!  _Not to mention,_ he allowed the Artist to blow up an entire city wall. It was an empty warehouse and her bombs were mostly for show, but the danger could have easily had been worse. Her anger was justified.

Still, she wondered if Kanan had been able to sense anything with his Jedi powers beforehand. The Jedi stories that her father told her as a small child, mixed with the rumors spreading throughout the galaxy—she never pictured that the Jedi would be like Kanan. She imagined they  _were just about as brave_  and just as quick to plunge into danger though. The last time he used his abilities was when they were on Tatooine. Before that, it was just accidental slips here and then.

He was probably trying to meditate in his room,  _alone, in the dark_ —he did that sometimes in secret. It helped them find the Artist before, so maybe it could again? Hera didn’t presume to know a lot about the Force, but she had her suspicions thanks to Kanan. She still wasn’t entirely sure what the Force was like _—or what somebody with it was capable of._

She sure hoped he could find her again…

One way or another, they each felt responsible for her now, and even Zeb was starting to warm up to the idea of having her around. Chopper was going to take a lot of apologizing, but he would get over it when he learned what a great mechanic this girl was supposed to be—at least that’s what the file Fulcrum sent of her said.

First thing was first, they simply needed to find her.

_*Clank!*_

“Ow! Sorry about that…”

It was Zeb. Hera had grown used to the smell he gave off and the sounds his feet made as he sauntered against her ship’s floor. 

He had good timing at least. The tool that he kicked had skidded across the floor to her side and she picked it up to use it because ironically she was just about to ask Chopper to hand it over to her.

“That’s alright Zeb,” she said softly. “What is it?”

“Hey Hera, do we have any food on this thing?” He asked.

“I don’t know, Zeb.” She rolled her eyes. “Did you maybe try checking in the cabinets?”

Zeb’s stomach growled and he sighed, “I did check, and there’s nothing there! I asked Kanan, but he only told me to ask you.”

Chopper buzzed at him with a tone of aggravation.

“What did he just say about me?” Zeb pointed defensively.

Hera groaned and rolled out from under the ship before pulling out some credits and a list.

“Alright then!” She stood and handed him the list, explaining his mission as he looked the contents over. “This is as good a time as any for a supply run, anyway. This is a list of everything we need that we can currently afford. Parts, food—the works. You can find everything we need in a town two clicks to the East. Chopper can go with you _._ ”

Chopper jumped once at the mention of his name and started arguing.

“Yes, you will!” Hera pointed a finger down at him. “Zeb needs you to help carry supplies, and I need you to make sure that Zeb doesn’t spend all of our credit on street traps again.”

“That was one time,” Zeb argued. “That merchant was really convincing!”

“Of course he was!” Hera gave him a look. “He was a con-artist!”

“What’s going on?” Kanan asked as he entered the room and the overlapping chatter died down.

“Zeb and Chop are going out for a supply run,” she said. “Did you get any news on our new friend?”

“Actually,” he smiled brightly. “I did for once. Seems she’s been spotted tagging Ties and bombing Imperial drop-offs on a nearby spaceport. She must have gotten off instead of taking her full tour to Corphelion. Word is that they regroup every three hours… perfect time for her to lay low.”

Hera was skeptical. “How long ago?”

“Reports are as recent as the last hour,” he said. “She’s probably trying to get us caught up in another trap, but I’d like to check it out anyway. There’s something about that place—” He paused and looked at Zeb then back to Hera. “It’s giving me a really strong  _feeling_. I think it’s solid.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to drop by now that the Empire is regrouping away from the port,” Hera said. Turning to Zeb and Chopper, she frowned a little and gave them a strict glare. “Will you two be okay while we’re gone?”

Zeb scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine, but do I have to tag along with him?”

Chopper agreed, but pointed at Zeb with a less than appropriate comment added into his binary.

“Yes!” She snapped. “Zeb, Chopper is going to help you—you need to get used to that. Plus I need him to keep an eye on you. And Chopper, Zeb needs your help picking out the right parts for the  _Phantom._ ”

The smile she wore was more accusatory than it was pleasant. It made Zeb feel a tad bit guilty.

“You’re never going to let him live that merchant scam down, are you?” Kanan was amused and grinning. “Get used to that buddy,” he laughed. “Hera can hold a pretty mean grudge.”

“ _Rrr…_ fine…” Zeb looked to the floor. “Come on droid, let’s get this over with so I can finally eat today.”

Chopper grumbled all the way out the door, his arms flailing as he boasted about how his time and efforts were being wasted by getting something as trivial as food…

“We’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours,” Hera said.

Kanan sighed and waved. “Try not to get into any trouble this time.”

“Same to you,” Zeb nodded.

“Chopper…” Hera’s voice came out as a warning. “I mean it—you two better get along.”

Both Zeb and Chopper let out a reluctant sigh as she shut the hatch to the  _Ghost_ , but agreed in theirown ways to try and behave _._

She nodded and shut them out with a smile… “That’s what I like to hear.”

With that, the  _Ghost_  left Corphellion to see if their slippery Mandalorian target was still on the spaceport. Meanwhile Chopper and Zeb traveled into a nearby town to get groceries and repair parts. 

Both of their missions were simple, but what the  _Ghost_ crew didn’t know, was that things were about to get a bit more complicated in ways that they could never have imagined.


End file.
